The Good Guy Isn't Supposed To Fall in Love with the Bad Guy
by baconcake3313
Summary: So, before Sabastian and Irene, who would Jim's helper be? What would he make he/her do? Well, he would use them to get to Sherlock. And to get to Sherlock, they would have to get to John first. JohnxOC sorry, I'm really bad at summeries. But I tried!
1. Chapter 1

Sherlock

John's POV

"John, we need some milk!" Sherlock shouted at me, not getting up from where he was sitting. Lazy arse.

"Alright, alright. I'll go get some." I said, getting up from my armchair, and putting my jacket on. I walkedout of 221B. The brisk, cold March air blew around me. I started walking down to the grocery store when, a door next to me burst open and string of shouts and curse words joined the wind. Then, a woman, probably around 21/22, was pushed out and the door slammed behind her. She was obviously crying and yelling back at whoever pushed her out.

"you selfish-" she yelled, backing into me. I moved out the way, but she tripped backwards, falling. I quickly caught her before she could fall. She stared up at me, her blue eyes staring into mine. I set her upright again.

"Thank you Monsieur," she said with a thick French accent.

"No problem." I said, smiling at her. She smiled back, softly. Her brown hair was everywhere, stuck up and teased by the looks of it. There was something beautiful about her. I don't know what.

"I'm John Watson, by the way,"

"Penelope." she says, quietly, looking at the pavement.

"Well, nice to meet you. Having a problem with your chap?"

"Yeah, he, uh, threw me out. And said he never wanted to see me again."

"Sorry," I said. I probably shouldn't have brought it up. "Do you have a place to stay tonight?" I asked, after awhile.

"No," she said. "But I'll find a place. I'm used to this."

"Did all your boyfriends treat you like this?" I ask, strangely curious.

"Yeah, I'm used to bad treatment."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. You're just some random guy I've just met. You shouldn't care."

"I guess I shouldn't, but I do."

"Well, thanks. I guess I should be going."

"Where are you going to go?" I felt suddenly protective over her.

"Local pub. I'll be able to pick someone up there." she winked.

"Oh umm alright. Bye."

She walks away from me, high heels in hand. I was mesmerized. She already got me to take her home.

I walk back into the flat, dropped the milk onto the kitchen table and sank back into my armchair. I was thinking about her, Penelope. She seemed so perfect, but not, in so many different ways.

"What are you thinking about?" Sherlock asked me, sitting in the armchair across from me,"You're rarely in deep thought."

"It's nothing. Just some girl," I said, trying to avoid looking at him.

"Who is it this time? A nurse? A teacher? A waitress?"

"Just some girl met on the street," I mutter, under my breath.

"Oh, that's a new one."

"Shut up," I mutter. Finally, I made up my mind and got up.

"Where are you going?" Sherlock asks, as soon as I get up.

"Out," I replied, putting my jacket back on.

"Out where?" he inquired.

"To get a drink," I say, walking back outside.

Once outside, I head down the road to the pub. I rarely go there, but tonight I had to.

When I got there, I immediately saw Penelope. Her back was against a wall, a guy was practically on top of her, kissing her madly. She opened her eyes for a second, and saw me. She quickly stood up and pushed the bloke away from her. "Oh," she said, blushing a bit," John. You're here."

"Yes, I am."

"Why?" she asked coming up to me.

"To find you,"

She raised an eyebrow at me, looking confused.

"To-to find me? Why?"

"Because I didn't want you to go home with one of these drunks." I said, not even realizing what I was saying.

"They don't have to be drunk to take me home," she grins at me.

What she said was true, I wanted to take her home. I smiled back at her.

"Well, I'm not letting you stay here, you can sleep at my place tonight," I suggest.

"Oh, alright. Thanks," she replied "I'd like that."

She didn't act like she was trying to get me to do something for her. She just was accepting my kindness. She wasn't trying to seduce me or use me. She was just being... Perfect.


	2. Chapter 2

Penelope's POV

I unconsciously ran a hand over my ever growing belly. I really hoped it wouldn't show too soon. He would get mad. I haven't told him yet. He probably already figured it out. He just needs to glance at me to know what's wrong. He came up behind me, wrapping his arms, protectively around me. His hand brushed over my stomach. He figured it out. My pulse quickened, a cold sweat, forming on my forehead. He knew. He knew about the-

"Ready, my little Penelope?" he asked, moving away from me.

"Yes," I replied, emotionlessly, pushing away my fear.

All I had to do, was to get to John to get to Sherlock. Simple. Not the hardest thing I've done. Getting John would be easy. I've been following him around for about 2 months now, he always has a girl on his arm. They're all relatively similar. I glanced out the window, seeing a blond man starting to walk down the street.

"Show time," Jim whispered in my ear, making me shiver.

As soon as John was a few feet away, I started the fake tears and Jim pushed me out of the door, slamming it behind me. I started shouting at the closed door. We decided that us trying to be a fighting couple would be the easiest. I kept on shouting and crying, till I found myself falling backward. Strong arms quickly caught me.

I stared up into the blue eyes of Doctor John Hamish Watson.

Dang. I didn't expect him to be this nice looking. He stood me up again. I thanked him in a thick French accent. I don't know why I did. But I did. He introduced himself, like I didn't know who he was. Well, he didn't know I knew who he was before he introduced himself. I could tell he was checking me out. I expected him to have liked asked me for my number or something. He seemed protective over me, more than anything.

I was sure I had him in my clutches, so I just winked at him and walked away, straight for the pub.

Once I walked in, all the guys looked up. Some jeered at me, thinking I shouldn't be in a tough, rough pub. Some just stared. I winked at them, and walked to the bar. I told the bartender what I wanted, and sat down on a stool. Once I got my drink,I almost took a sip, but then I remembered, and quickly put the glass down. I stood up again, looking for someone to take me home. Preferably someone hot and rich. I scanned the room, then I saw the perfect person, standing near the back up against the wall. Tall, handsome, looks pretty rich. Now, all I have to do is get him to like me a lot. Easy. All I have to do, is to make an excuse to talk to him. Also easy.

I walked over to my target, and purposely, bumped into him. Sure, it may be a very obvious thing to do, but it works every time.

"Watch where you're-," he started to yell, but once he saw me, he stopped abruptly,"Oh sorry, darling."

I smiled softly at him.

"So, are you here alone?" he asked, stroking my arm.

"Yeah, I am." I said, trying to sound as seductive as possible. Luckily I've had some experience.

"Not anymore," he said, pushing me up against the wall. This was way too easy. I didn't even notice he was kissing me. I've had to do this so many times, I kissed back senselessly. This continued for a few minutes, until I opened my eyes for a second and saw John.

I quickly pushed away from the guy, I never actually found out his name, and called out to him, blushing for some reason.

"Oh, John. You're here,"

He agreed to my statement.

"Why?" I said, coming up to him.

"To find you."

To find me. Perfect.

"To-to find me?," I said, adding a fake stutter to sound convincing,"Why?"

"Because I didn't want you to go home with one of these drunks." he blurted.

"They don't have to be drunk to take me home," I grin at him.

"Well, I'm not letting you stay here," he said,"You can sleep at my place."

"Oh, alright. Thanks," I said, and without meaning to I say,"I'd like that." It just slipped out. I really didn't mean to say that. Or maybe I did.


End file.
